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Our first kiss was rushed, heat of the moment, and forceful. He grabbed the collar of my coat and pulled me close, smashing our lips together in a heated and angry kiss. My hands were trapped flat against his chest, his hands tangled in my collar, pulling me close and holding me there. It took quite a few moments, but I eventually regained my strength and state of mind enough to push him back and rangle my expression into something not unlike disgust. The expression, however, was completely untrue, because my emotions in the moment were everywhere and nowhere, up and down, side to side, everything and nothing, unable to be comprehended by the human mind in any descriptive human language. I looked at him in that moment after pushing him back and pulling myself back away from him, glad for once that he was wearing his glasses, and then I said what is most likely one of the most foolish things to ever be uttered.
“I- I forgive you…”
That was the sentence I choked out in that half-witted, fire-packed moment. That was the sentence I uttered to the only being who had really truly been there for me through thick and thin, dull and brilliant, come Heaven and/or Hell (both of which have indeed shown up and thrown their agents at us, time and again).
He looked at me then, through those dark glasses he’s always wearing around others. It truly felt as if he was looking into my soul in that moment, breaking down barrier after barrier that I had unknowingly built around the most fragile part of my existence; my love. For God, for Heaven, for the Earth, for Humanity, and even (unbeknownst to me at the moment) for him. He looked at me then with those amazing yellow eyes. And it was a look so full of hurt and anger and rage and torment and sorrow and … grief.
“Don’t bother.”
He said that last, tragic sentence before turning on his heel and storming out of my book shop, not even turning around to look at me again, no matter how I wished, deep in my very being, that he would turn back and look at me, see how lost I felt in that moment, how utterly and completely lost I truly was. Lost in Heaven, lost on Earth, lost amongst Humanity, lost within my very self, and lastly … lost without him. Lost without him to guide me home.
But he didn’t. He didn’t turn back to look at me in that moment. No, he simply turned and sauntered out of my beloved bookshop, our beloved bookshop. He sauntered out and strode confidently over to our, no his car parked just across the street. He swung open the door to our … his Bentley and threw himself inside, anger and grief evident in his every step. I should have known then. I should have known then that I knew him better than anyone else ever would or, indeed, even could. And that he, perhaps, knew me as well.
But I didn’t.
~~~~
Our second kiss was less sudden but more electric than the first. This time, instead of grabbing his lapels and dragging him close to me, I cupped his face in my hands and held him close as our (rather unnecessary) breath intertwined and our eyes locked before he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. After a moment that felt like a lifetime, he gently pulled back and reached up to remove my glasses that I had stubbornly kept on since I stormed out of his bookshop what felt like forever ago now. I let go of his face in favor of helping his shaking hands remove the last shield I had between me and my beloved angel.
In that moment after he had folded my glasses and set them aside, he looked into my eyes as if they held the key to every problem that had ever come between us. And then, oh that beautiful moment after that, he uttered five words that made the yellow eyes I hated overflow with tears I didn’t know I could shed.
“I am so sorry, Crowley.”
That one sentence broke any resolve I had left, most of which had dissolved when he pressed our lips together. My face was wet with tears and my very soul was pounding out a staccato beat, unable to hold onto any level rhythm for more than a moment. I held his face in my hands once more, closing my eyes and pressing my forehead against his, unable to stop myself any longer.
Throughout all of my long (and rather eventful) existence, never had I ever loved a being quite like this. Yes, I had created works of art that can be seen even know in the night sky (if you are in a particularly empty and lightless area of the Earth, that is), and yes, I had created nebulas and stars and entire galaxies that had all been a labor of love, but not a love like this. A love I would lay down my everything for.
“I know, Angel. I know and I forgive you. I will always, always forgive you.”
And it wasn’t a lie. I really would always forgive him. I never can hold anything against him for long. He really had thought that he could change things in Heaven. He really had thought that he could fix everything wrong with the system we had been under for millions of decades.
“Now how about we show these uptight, self-righteous idiots what being on our own team looks like. Whadya say, ey Aziraphale?”
I held my hand out to him at the end of that sentence, prompting him to take it and face the multitudes of Heaven and throngs of Hell with me by his side this time. He looked up at me and I could see a flock of varying emotions in his eyes. Fear, exhilaration, gratefulness, determination, and … love. He took my hand in that moment and we turned together to face the hosts of Heaven and hordes of Hell for what I hoped would be our final battle before they realized that they should probably just leave us be.
“Together?”
He asked it in such a heartbreakingly uncertain way that I barely kept from shattering into a thousand pieces right then and there, which would, of course, ruin any chance we had at surviving this.
“Together.”
I stated it matter-of-factly, squeezing his hand once to reassure him.
“Alright then. Let’s do this”
I nodded at his words, giving him a quick glance to make sure he looked steady enough to face the immense power of Heaven before taking a step forward and plunging right in.
~~~
Our third kiss was something special indeed. Much more gentle and sure than the first two, this one was in the comfort and peace of our own space. Having made it back to my bookshop, I very soon fell into Crowley’s arms, tears pouring down my face as I begged him to please stay with me. When he heard what I was saying, he held me close, wrapping his arms around me and speaking into the bookshop the words I never thought I would be lucky enough to hear;
“I am never going to leave you again, Angel. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I just got you. Why would I ever let you go again.”
He pulled back slightly and held my face in his hands.
“I’m here to stay, whether you want me here or not.”
And with that, he tilted his head and gently pulled me in for a soft, loving kiss. It was beautiful. Our lips melded together like that was always where they were meant to go. My hands eventually found their way up to hold Crowley’s face, holding him close to me. After what felt like hours but was most likely only second, we both pulled back and looked at each other. Both of our eyes were brimming with tears. I rubbed my thumb across his cheek to wipe away a stray tear and then looked up into his eyes. Those beautiful, sunflower yellow eyes. The same color that the Bentley had turned when I drove it what now felt like ages ago.
“Your eyes are beautiful, Crowley. You are beautiful.”
The former Demon looked at me with such surprise then. Surprise and also disbelief.
“You know, I’ve never really liked my eyes. ‘Swhy I’ve always got the glasses on.”
I stared at him in shock. How could he not like his eyes? They were amazing! Like drops of gold in a pale lake with fiery red shores, like the sun on a cloudless day, this ex-Demon’s eyes could and would captivate any daring enough to look into them. But it’s not like I could say all of that. Not this soon, at least.
“Well I think they are amazing.”
And that was how our fourth kiss began.
~ The End ~